Hour after hour, day after day, the beach gets visits from unsuspecting kids and carefree adults. That’s where they run into Staby.

I’ve been picking up plastic bags and bottles on Kyiv beaches for about a year. I’ve even buried a few birds. (We don’t have a reliable service to take care of dead animals or roadkill. Most of the time, they just rot away on the streets or become car-pressed steaks on the highway.)

I gave up on Staby. She’s too heavy and too much of a health hazard. You can smell her from a distance of 50 meters if the wind blows your way.

Ironically, the bay goes by the name of Sobache Hyrlo (Dog's Throat). Here's what it looks like in the summer.

Back to Staby, I last saw her on Thursday evening, half-submerged. With the water rising, she may sail away tomorrow. Too bad she won’t reach Koncha-Zaspa.

Mr. Yanukovych, I know you hear everyone. Why don’t you pick up Staby and take her to the White House, along with the enriched uranium?